


The Done Thing

by catty_the_spy



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001)
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25497706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catty_the_spy/pseuds/catty_the_spy
Summary: One night of many in Cairo, where two lives intersect.
Relationships: Ardeth Bay/Jonathan Carnahan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	The Done Thing

**Author's Note:**

> what is this i don't even know. also if you've seen _Now, Voyager_ you may get the appeal of Jonathan pulling a Paul Henreid at the beginning.

The wind picked up, making them shiver under cooling sweat. Jonathan pinched two cigarillos between his teeth and fished around for a match. One he passed to Ardeth, who sniffed it warily. Last time all Jonathan had had to hand were some battered jazz cigarettes. Ardeth had threatened to never sleep with him again.

Jon didn’t smoke nearly as much as most men he knew; he had better vices. But there was something entrancing about passing something from his mouth to another’s – cherries, kisses, a ruby once. And now this. 

“I expect you’ll be gallivanting off then.”

There was no one else in the house at this time of night, but it was the sort of atmosphere that called for hushed voices. And anyway, the windows were open.

Ardeth propped his head on one hand. His hair was rude enough to drape dashingly over his shoulder. Jonathan knew he looked like a well-fucked mess. 

“I have business with the museum.”

“What kind of business?”

A twinkle in Ardeth’s eye said Jon must’ve been too excited. “The new curator is my uncle. I’m bringing him good news.”

“Oh _that_ kind of business. Well.” He was no less curious. Jonathan made no secret of being a nosey bastard. “Feel free to darken my doorstep as often as you like. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

A dig had fallen through, and he was in no hurry to find a new one. Salwa, his housekeeper, was starting to despair of him. She was technically a cousin twice-removed and saw no reason why his being English meant he couldn’t be a respectable member of society. Find a career, find a wife, stop drinking, and all that rot. Her eyes rolled heavenward every time she saw Ardeth at the breakfast table. He often wondered how she’d react to Rick, who was so disreputable he’d been nearly hanged. Evy and Salwa had never properly met; by the time Evy had been in a position to give a struggling relative a hand up, she’d been off to the old country with Rick. 

“So what’s the good news?”

Ardeth hesitated, then shrugged. “I am a father.”

Jonathan choked. Ardeth found the glass he used as an ashtray and passed it over. Jonathan rather wished he’d gone for the scotch he kept under the bed. Eventually Jonathan got his breath back, and without burning a hole in the mattress.

“Well,” Jonathan said, coughing. “Well, I say. Congratulations old chap.”

“Thank you.” He had the gall to be smiling. “It has been a long time coming, but God saw fit to grant us a daughter. One day I will have to introduce you. You and the O’Connells. I’ve invited you before; now that Alex is old enough, I hope you’ll accept the invitation.”

Jonathan had turned it down because they were all a bit too teetotal for his taste, but he found “Of course,” slipping out before he could think it through.

Ardeth grinned and kissed his shoulder. Rather than rescue Jonathan’s from the ash-cup, he passed him the cigarillo from his own mouth. Even after his little revelation, the act hadn’t lost its appeal.

They puffed quietly for a while, letting night sounds drift in from across the courtyard and their bodies dry completely. Then Jonathan finally sifted through his pile of burning questions and picked out the most pressing one. 

“How does that work, exactly? The uh-wife and all.”

“There’s no reason that the way a man chooses to comfort his brother should interfere with his ability to do his duty.”

Jonathan made a face at the phrasing, but he got the sentiment. He supposed that when one was the leader of a sect with a sacred mission, marrying was less the done thing and more the thing that needed done. Still… “It all seems awfully inconvenient.”

“No more than having more than one wife, and many men manage that successfully.”

“For certain values of success, I suppose.”

Ardeth conceded the point. 

Something occurred to him then. “You do only have the one wife? Three may be a crowd; I’m sure four would be a circus.”

Ardeth did laugh at him then. Jonathan shoved him and stole the cigarillo back. Night was waxing on. If he were on his own, he’d be leaving some bar or another, alone or with a mark. He didn’t make a habit of stealing from his flings, but some times he couldn’t help himself. It was always better when he had something else to occupy his time – a dig, or these assignations with Ardeth, or his sister’s happy little family. 

“Will you be finding a bride?” Ardeth asked, taking his turn as interrogator. “You _are_ the head of your family.”

“Nah. I couldn’t be bothered.” It sounded awful to him. He’d had his moments with the ladies here and there, but he couldn’t imagine keeping up with one full time. He had enough trouble keeping up with Salwa and Evy, and they had homes to go to. Wives came with needs and certain obligations. Ardeth seemed to have fulfilled his with little difficulty. Jonathan wasn’t sure he could manage doing the same. “Besides, the matter isn’t so pressing on my end.”

“I’m sure you could manage if the need arose.”

“May it never arise.”

If they’d had glasses, they would have toasted each other. As it was they shared a heated look.

“I’m sure you didn’t find it difficult to do the deed,” Jonathan said. He surprised himself by leering. 

“I myself did not. Some times a man will need…encouragement.”

“Encouragement?”

“A helping hand from his brother.” Ardeth proceeded to demonstrate. Jon almost had another choking fit.

“Somehow I get the feeling you’re pulling my leg.”

“Am I?”

“You are. This is all an elaborate plan to distract me from your strange matrimonial casuistry. You think if you appeal to my inner academic I won’t mind about the rest of it.”

“And do you?” Ardeth asked, suddenly serious. “Mind?”

“Mind that you had no trouble doing the deed with a probably beautiful woman?” 

Jonathan could be a hypocrite but he knew a rock and a hard place when he found one. They couldn’t all be wastrels. If Jonathan hadn’t been an Egyptologist with a successful sister and more than two coins to rub together, he might be looking into doing the done thing himself. And that was without the whole business of being a warrior for God. Could he have denied a him in that position the attentions of a man like Ardeth?

He certainly wasn’t denying himself right now. 

With that in mind he stubbed out the last of the cigarillo and quaffed the lamp.

“We can’t call be inverts,” he said. And that was the matter settled.

If he was going to be wife number two, he was planned on getting the most out of his time.


End file.
